


Wishful Thinking

by Odalis88



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode 3x18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-22 20:11:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18534652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odalis88/pseuds/Odalis88
Summary: Alec has a dream, wherein he forgets the gut-wrenching agony of losing Magnus and gets to spend a few precious minutes in his true love's embrace.





	Wishful Thinking

Alec woke slowly to fingers gently massaging his scalp. Magnus lay half on top of him, right leg wedged between his own. While one hand lazily combed Alec’s hair, the other traced the Angelic Runes on his chest. He smelled like sandalwood. 

“Good morning, Alexander,” Magnus whispered, as though he did not want to disturb night’s heavy peacefulness by acknowledging daybreak too enthusiastically. 

Magnus had no bedside clock, but Alec thought it could be no later than 6:30, judging by the quality of light outside the window. “Morning,” he rumbled, just as softly. 

Alec allowed himself this quiet time with his boyfriend, before the strain and responsibility of the day hit him. There was such strength and comfort in Magnus’s touch he didn’t know how he had lived so many years alone before the warlock carved out his own unique corner of Alec’s life and his heart. 

A dark thought threatened his happiness, small and nagging at the back of his mind. He was forgetting something important. Something was wrong and it made his heart hammer against his chest so heavily he was surprised Magnus couldn’t feel it. What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember? 

Magnus’s fingers stopped tracing his Runes and started lightly playing with his nipple. It was passive enough that Alec knew he could ignore the invitation if he chose, but when Magnus touched him like that, it made the uneasy feeling go away. Whatever had happened, there was no way it was so bad that they couldn’t figure it out together.

He grabbed Magnus’s face and tiled it up for a thorough kiss. The resulting moan and rock of Magnus’s hips had him hard enough to hammer nails. He rolled them over until he was on top. When he pulled back to tug off his shorts, Magnus stopped him, cat’s eyes practically glowing.

“No need,” he said, grinning and snapping his fingers. All of Alec’s and Magnus’s clothes vanished. His chest suddenly tightened and the darkness returned, but Magnus pulled him back down for an aggressive kiss, reaching a hand between their bodies to grasp Alec’s rigid shaft and all he could feel were the cool rings and warm fingers of his boyfriend. 

“I want you now, please,” Alec murmured against his warlock’s lips. As he said it, Magnus was already pressing a small bottle of lube into his palm. 

He prepped himself quickly, but tried to slow down as he stretched Magnus. He didn’t know how long his patience would last. He wanted him so desperately and he knew that being joined would erase the terrible unease in the pit of his stomach that told him something was wrong, even if his mind couldn’t remember what it was. 

“Now, Alexander,” Magnus panted beneath him. “Hurry, we don’t have much time.”

Without stopping to decipher the strange words, Alec obeyed. He filled Magnus in one fluid stroke and the only thing he felt in that moment was the overwhelming love he had for this man. Magnus wrapped himself around him, body and soul, and they moved as one. 

Magnus pulled him down for a salty kiss. Alec opened his eyes and saw tears trailing down Magnus’s face. 

“Stay with me,” Magnus begged.

“I love you,” Alec tried to assure him, but the tears didn’t stop. 

“Stay with me, please,” Magnus whispered, before covering Alec’s lips again in a desperate kiss. 

The darkness returned tenfold, and with it, a demonic voice. 

_“Break his heart, to save his life.”_

Suddenly, Alec was alone. A powerful wind blasted him off Magnus’s bed. He landed on hands and knees inside a pentagram surrounded by orange flames. Asmodeus stood outside the circle, laughing at him. He tried to stand, but the floor vanished and he was falling. 

Alec sat bolt upright in bed. He was at the institute, not Magnus’s loft. And he was alone. 

Someone knocked once on the door, then immediately threw it open without waiting for permission. 

“What’s going on in here?” Jace demanded, seraph blade in hand. He lowered it when he saw Alec was in no danger. “What happened?” he asked in a slightly more gentle voice. 

“Nothing. Nightmare,” Alec said, horrified to realize his eyes were stinging from unshed tears. “Go back to bed.”

Jace hesitated in the doorway, then sheathed his blade and sat next to him on the bed. Alec couldn’t look at him. It was taking all his willpower not to let the tears fall. 

“I wish you felt like you could talk to me. You know anything you say will stay between us.”

“I’m fine.”

He could feel Jace’s eyes on him. “I’ve been thinking about what you asked me last week. Your hypothetical question about me and Clary. It wasn’t about us, was it? It was about you and Magnus.”

Alec couldn’t respond, but Jace didn’t seem to need verbal confirmation. “I don’t know what happened between you guys, but I have faith in you two. You love each other so much. I know you’ll get past whatever this is. You don’t have to do it alone.”

With that, Jace left, and Alec drew in a shaky breath. If only Jace’s prediction could come to pass. As desperately as he needed Magnus, Magnus needed his powers more. If he didn’t keep his part of Asmodeus’s bargain, he would be responsible for Magnus’s death, in one way or another. That was simply not an option. 

It was only 1 in the morning, but there was no way sleep would come again. He dressed and headed for the training room. The plan was to keep himself busy, get through one minute, and the next one, and the next one, and hope that one day it would hurt less. 

In the deepest recesses of his heart, however, he knew the truth. He had given his heart to Magnus Bane, and he’d never get it back. It was a wound that would never stop bleeding.


End file.
